Rhyme and Unreason
by Dagger Queen
Summary: When Hotch and Reid are taken, who will the team recover?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the CM characters; that right goes to the show and actors. Other characters are my own creation and hopefully do not match anyone in real life.

Author's Note: Totally AU. This was written before Hotch's break-up with Haley and before meeting Reid's mother. So, the pair are still together and my thoughts on Reid's mother and home are not canon.)

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner sighed in resignation as he leaned over and grabbed the bag that was about to pass out of reach. Considering that this was its third pass in front of his oblivious teammate, he decided that if he didn't secure it they'd stand in front of the baggage claim conveyor belt until it was time for them to leave on their return flight. It would have been nice if they could have used their own plane, but with the rest of the team in Michigan that hadn't been an option. At least he'd been able to use the extra time to call his wife Haley (who had taken the opportunity to pack up their son and visit her mother) and let her know they'd arrived safely.

"Reid, let's go." No response from the younger man, who had his nose buried (figuratively speaking) in his laptop. **Probably revising his seminar notes for the umpteenth time,** the senior agent decided. The application of judicious force (a sharp nudge of an elbow that shook the computer's screen) drew his companion's attention back to the real world - or as much of it as the young Ph.D. inhabited at any one time.

"What?" The hazel eyes blinked a couple of times as he took in the bags grouped around his team leader's feet and the fact that they were the only ones remaining in the baggage claim area. "Oh." The eyes dropped toward the ground in embarrassment as he hurriedly closed up his computer and stuffed it into its carrying case. "Sorry."

Hotch allowed the younger man's grab for the bag closest to him and lifted the rest of them easily, smiling reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Reid. At least this way we should avoid the line at the rental counter." Not that there would have been much of one at this late hour, but he wasn't about to say anything else the other man trailed in silence. Silence from an excited Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid was rare enough not to risk breaking with idle conversation.

It only took a few minutes to complete the rental paperwork, and then they were pulling away from the airport curb and heading for the convention hotel. Reid immediately returned to his computer and Hotch hid a smile as he contemplated the week ahead of him. **Only Reid would think of a weeklong FBI seminar as a vacation. But then, with him giving a lecture every day and a hotel full of people more than willing to listen to him and to exchange ideas, maybe it is for him.** He checked the air conditioning; even this late at night the humidity in Florida was stifling to a Northerner. **That should keep him out of my hair long enough for me to spend some time just relaxing. Maybe get together with Caldwell and Truday between making sure Reid does some relaxing himself and gets more than 8 hours sleep during the week.**

This time the smile made it to his face. The last time Reid had gone to one of these things, Morgan had been the designated keeper (though no one would have dreamed of telling Reid that), and the poor man had come home with a teammate completely wired and bouncing off the walls from mental stimulation and lack of sleep. From what he had told them, the trip back had been...an experience.

The blare of horns brought his attention to the road and he hurriedly brought the car back into his own lane. It was then that he realized how slow his reflexes were and how blurred his sight was getting. A quick glance found Reid collapsed in the passenger seat, his computer at his feet. Alarm cut through the growing fog long enough for Hotch to pull the car over to the side of the road. He fumbled for his cell phone, and then dropped it as flashing lights suddenly appeared in the rear window. He glanced at the mirror to see a state police car pull up behind them and two policemen got out, tugging at their leather gloves as they moved forward. One went right, opening the passenger door and catching Reid's body as its support was removed. The other came around to his side, and Hotch managed to unlock his door. He tried to speak as the officer opened it, but darkness rolled over him before anything came out.

Consciousness returned slowly, and Hotch opened his eyes just as slowly, blinking against the harsh light that flooded the room. The high humidity argued against a hospital, as did the feel of a rough hard-packed dirt floor beneath him. The smell of vegetation that filled the air seemed to indicate a jungle setting, which just didn't make sense. Nor did the bare ceiling which filled his vision.

After a few minutes, he finally felt alert enough and strong enough to move. He carefully struggled to a sitting position. The world swung wildly on its axis, and he grabbed for the edge of the rude cot that lay against one wall. When the dizziness faded, he realized that he'd been stripped of coat, shoes and belt, as well as the contents of his pockets and of course his gun. With a little effort, he pulled himself up to sit on the cot and looked around. The room – no, the cell - was small and adequately if rudely appointed. Besides the cot, which was bolted to the wall and held only a thin straw mattress and an equally thin blanket, there was a small rough table and a portable toilet. The walls were rough-surfaced concrete; the only door was solid metal with a small viewing port. There were no windows; only a couple of small vents allowed air circulation. Illumination came from a bulb securely contained in a metal cage bolted to the ceiling. All in all, it looked like it was designed to hold a determined prisoner and at first inspection offered nothing in the way of weapons or tools. Somebody had prepared well for his arrival. But the thing that grabbed his attention was the fact that the "accommodations" were only for one person, and there was no sign that Reid had even been in the room.

The only warning he got that visitors were at the door was a solid "chunk" as the bolt was shot back. The door swung open and the two "police officers" entered the room. Only now they were dressed in cut-off khaki pants and open cotton shirts in Caribbean style. Considering they both topped him by more than four inches and outweighed him by at least 30 pounds, he forced himself to relax, knowing he was in no condition to challenge them. He watched as one stayed by the door, not taking his eyes from him, and the other carried a large paper cup and a covered paper plate to the table. Hotch addressed the watcher.

"Where is my partner?" There was no reaction, let alone a response. "Small, skinny guy...probably talking too much?" Still nothing. The second man returned to the door and started out. "Wait! Where is Reid?!" Hotch jumped up, and immediately the first man took one step forward and straight-armed him back into the wall with insulting ease. Before he could recover, they exited the cell, closing the door behind them and re-engaging the bolt.

As Hotch regained his wind, which was the only thing that kept him for cursing aloud, his mind started trying to figure out what was going on and how he could work his way out of it. Unless things changed drastically, he wasn't getting out of his cell except through the door, and if his brief encounter with the Bobbsey twins was any indication that wasn't going to be an option any time soon. He classified them as flunkies...dangerous, yes, but following orders. The whole setup spoke of careful planning and preparation. Their car had been rigged, the fake police ready and waiting to take them as soon as they were vulnerable. The cost and effort of getting them out of the country (if one of the Caribbean islands was really where they were) would not be small. That meant the questions were (1) had they been personally targeted or was the attack Bureau-related (it had been too-well coordinated to be random), (2) why had they been taken instead of killed outright (not that he was complaining for the moment, but it opened the door to all sorts of unpleasant alternatives), and (3) what was the unsub's ultimate goal. After several minutes of fruitless introspection, he got up and went to investigate what the guards had brought.

It turned out to be water and a plain sandwich of coarse bread around a filling of some meat spread. Nothing to write home about, but at least it was something. Even without his watch to tell him how long he'd been unconscious, his stomach told him it was long enough that food was a good idea. He forced himself to eat slowly, stretching out the food as much as possible but not saving something that would only spoil in this climate. He did save half of the water, not assuming that he'd get any more. He could do without food a lot longer than he could go without water. That thought inevitably led to how much longer he could last than Reid.

Ruthlessly he shut that line of thought down. Until he could do something constructive, it would be a waste of energy to worry. Somewhat refreshed, he carefully positioned the cup to avoid spillage. If any opportunity presented itself, he wanted to be as prepared as possible. His focus narrowed, and he began a detailed search of his cell. But in the back of his mind, thoughts of what might be happening to the young agent could not be dispelled so easily.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Hotch sat on the rumpled cot, staring listlessly at the wall. He had been right in suspecting that water might be in short supply; what he hadn't counted on was getting only enough to sustain him and even less food. What must have been several days' worth of beard and grime covered his face, but he had no idea exactly how much time had passed. There was no daylight entering the room, the light bulb shone constantly, and his guards had deliberately staggered their visits at vastly irregular intervals. All of this had jumbled his time sense to the point where he'd given up trying to calculate his length of stay. But however long it had been, not once had he seen anyone other than the two guards with food (or sometimes not). There had been no interrogation, no kidnapper with demands or threats or boasts, and especially no Reid. There had just been endless time spent staring at the walls, sleeping, or trying to come up with a way of striking back at his captors without success. The obvious answer to the situation was that the unsub had no interest in him, which meant that Reid had been the one he was after and he'd been taken simply to prevent a quick start to the search. And unless someone from the BAU tried to call them at the conference (which was unlikely), they wouldn't be missed until they didn't show up back at Quantico.

The door opened and he glared (the only thing he had the energy to do) as the guards entered. He'd given up trying to get them to respond. Only twice had he tried to get passed them. The first attempt had been repelled by a backhand that had flung him across the room and left him with a bloody mouth and a headache the size of Montana. The second had led to his one and only beating and no food for the next three visits. If he was right, it had also left him with two cracked (if not broken) ribs. He could only be thankful that there was as yet no infection.

When the two men had left, he staggered over to the table. The offering consisted only of a cup of water and some soda crackers, but he responded as if it was a four-course meal at a five-star restaurant. He managed not to cram all of the crackers in his mouth at once, but he couldn't refrain from eating every last crumb and draining the glass.

Returning to the cot, he sat down and sagged against the wall. All he could do was endure, and pray that nothing worse was happening to Reid. He closed his eyes and thought of his family, not even noticing as the drug on the crackers swept consciousness away.

Senior Agent Jason Gideon looked at the BAU bullpen. Derek Morgan was teasing Elle Greenway, putting case folders on her desk as quickly as she yanked them off and returned them (sometimes by air mail). Jennifer Jareau – J.J. to her friends - was out of her office for once, enjoying the interplay and egging the combatants on impartially (much to the amusement of the other agents in the area). Gideon was glad that the team had had a few days of relaxation. It had been one case after another over the past few months, and he could only hope that they got a few more days off before the next crisis.

A half smile creased his face as he thought about the two absent agents. He wondered if Aaron had gotten any rest. He wasn't worried about Reid all that much; if he managed to get some sleep every night and ate something, this conference was better than a week on the beach in Hawaii for the young man.

The smile faded, as did the noisy byplay, as an obviously-distraught Garcia hurried down the stairs, a piece of paper clenched in one hand. There was frozen silence for a split-second, and then the others dropped what they were doing and rushed over.

Derek got to her first. "Garcia? What is it?"

The plump blonde looked at him with devastated eyes as she handed Gideon the note. "It came off the unclassified email account, addressed directly to the BAU and to Gideon specifically. Vetted it as a matter of course; we get lots of weird stuff. But when I saw what it said... "

Jason looked at the note, a plain computer printout of what appeared to be a standard email. It is the sender's ID – whodoneit – that sent a spark down his nerves. There were only four lines printed in the message block, but he could feel the chill settle in his gut as he read them aloud.

Two agents away

from HQ and team.

Two agents gone missing.

Now what does it mean?

Gideon looked up in time to see the younger agent paled as much as his African-American heritage would allow, and he heard the dark-haired woman agent suck in a gasp of breath. The pair then spun and half-ran to their desks; Morgan dug through the papers on his desk. Finding what he wanted, he glanced at the sheet and then thrust it at Elle. As the pair grabbed their respective phones, he gestured the computer tech closer. "Any idea where this came from?"

The question snapped her out of her shock and put a steely look back into her eyes. "I started a tracer program to run down its origin before I brought a copy up here. Give me a few minutes to get back to the lab and you'll have it."

"Gideon!" Morgan slammed his phone. "They never checked into the hotel. They didn't make any of the lectures, either."

"They arrived on time at the airport," Elle chimed in, hanging up only a bit more sedately than her teammate. "They picked up their rental car and left."

Gideon nodded, then started snapping orders. "Morgan, contact the Florida FBI office and get a full search started. J.J., same thing with the local police down there; make sure they check the local hospitals for John Does. Elle, call the hanger and have them get the plane ready immediately. Garcia, contact us as soon as you have anything on the sender. I'll inform the Director." He looked at the others, his eyes dark with suppressed emotion. "Meet me at the hanger in half an hour."

Gideon headed for the door as the others fanned out, seemingly oblivious to the whispers and concerned looks of their colleagues. It wouldn't take him long to get ready, but he didn't want to waste any time. The head and heart of the BAU were missing, and he meant to get them back.

The team blew into the local FBI office with a controlled intensity rarely seen even from them. But there was no surprise in the eyes of the few people they'd met before. Only looks of understanding and determination came their way, backed by the realization of the situation and the remembrance of six agents lost in the Boston debacle. Happily, no one offered any words of sympathy; it was doubtful if they would have handled it.

With their usual efficiency, the group went to work. Elle began establish their work area, gathering the tools they would use. J.J. started running interference with the media, hoping to keep this out of the public eye for a time; she also coordinated the effort of sending bulletins to the local police forces and hospitals. Jason and Morgan set out to compile the scant information the locals had managed to gather before their arrival. At least there had been some news on that front. The rental car had been found parked quite normally in a back lot of the hotel. All of the missing agents' gear, including their weapons, was locked in the trunk; the one glaring omission had been their Federal ID badges. The vehicle was currently undergoing complete testing in the FBI's forensics lab for anything that might provide a clue as to the nature of the attack or the agents' whereabouts. That was their best lead, because so far Garcia had had no luck in tracing the email. It had been sent from a generic website and the account apparently had been generated for just this and then deleted immediately. The computer id had turned out to be a public library in Orlando. The computer tech had expressed doubt that anything useful would come out of it, but was still trying.

"Jason!" J.J.'s shout turned every head in her direction as she hung up the phone and rushed over to him. "East Beach Memorial Hospital just called in to report that a man matching Hotchner's description was admitted early this morning. He had no identification, so it was only when they got the photo we sent around that somebody recognized him."

Before he could open his mouth to reply, all three of his teammates were gathered around him, faces both eager and concerned. Knowing there was no way on Earth he would be able to keep them away from their team leader, he simply said "Let's go" and led the way out. When the foursome got at the hospital, however, it was understood that he would see Hotchner alone at first. Not knowing what he'd been through, everyone knew that a mass arrival might do him no good at all. So, while Gideon entered the room alone, J.J. talked to the staff, Elle talked to the police on site, and Morgan paced the hall nervously.

A hospital staffer was in the room as well, taking blood and readings, for which Gideon was grateful. It gave him a few moments as he stared at the pale form in the hospital bed and strove to regain detachment. He didn't remember ever seeing Hotch quite so bad. Even cleaned up, the signs of deprivation and abuse were obvious. The police had given them pictures taken when Aaron had first been admitted to the hospital, and it made him wonder how anyone had seen the likeness between the ID photo that had been distributed and the wild-eyed wreck they were treating. As the nurse left, he frowned at the restraints fastened to the bed frame and then around the agent's arms and legs; he didn't like the implication of their presence.

Hotch stirred, struggling to consciousness. Immediately Gideon was at the side of the bed, grabbing the hand that groped for purchase between his own.

"Hotch, it's Gideon. You're safe now, in a hospital. The others are waiting to see you."

Dark eyes fluttered open, and then locked on his with feverish intensity. "Reid! Is Reid here, too?" Gideon had to restrain him as Hotch struggled to sit up and look around.

"Hotch, lie still!" He hated to say it, but the truth was better than letting the man work himself into a frenzy. "No, Reid isn't here. You're the only one we've found so far."

The shoulders under his grasp went rock-hard as Hotch froze completely. "Not here?" Devastation filled his eyes and, taking Gideon completely by surprise, he threw his head back and screamed; it was a wail of loss that shocked Jason to the core. Hotch flung himself against his hold and the restraints like a wild thing struggling against a trap, and one strap buckle parted with a sound like a gunshot.

As Gideon was flung away from the bed by a blow to the chest, the door crashed open as two male orderlies rushed into the room, followed by the rest of his team. Morgan grabbed him from behind to steady him, and Jason had just enough presence of mind to throw out an arm to stop the two women from continuing forward. "Give them room to work," he managed to gasp.

Reluctantly they obeyed, moving to one side as they watched the men fling themselves on the wildly-yelling patient. It took a few minutes before a new restraint was applied. Then, while one continued to hold onto Hotch, the other grabbed the syringe he'd tossed onto the bedside table and deposited the contents into the IV intake tube. Hotch's eyes started to glaze and the pair stepped back cautiously. One wiped blood from a split lip and the other gingerly touched an eye that was sure to be truly impressive by tomorrow.

"Okay, Gene...Andy. I'll want an observer in the room at all times until we know that those drugs are out of his system." The feminine voice brought the entire team around to face the newcomer, a woman doctor. The lines of a full life marked her still-attractive face, and the bright blue eyes that were framed by spectacular silver hair were as full of the knowledge learned from that life as they were young. She smiled gently at the group as she continued. "I'll allow his teammates to act as observers if they'll be sensible enough to yell for help." A gesture sent the two men out of the room before she turned back and held out a hand. "Dr. Alexandra Harvey."

"Jason Gideon, FBI." He took her hand in a brief but firm grip that was matched on her side. "Agents Morgan, Greenway, and Jareau. What can you tell us?"

"Probably not as much as either of us would like." She moved over and did a quick examination of her oblivious patient. "He's full of some kind of natural sedative, which is how they controlled him for transportation. But it's a companion drug that I'm worried about. As you saw, it's stimulating those centers of the brain that control fear and guilt. No doubt they hoped his reactions would classify him as a nutcase and he'd get thrown into a mental ward. This isn't the first time he's gone off...he broke the jaw of one of the police officers that brought him in."

"And why wasn't he?" Elle asked, moving over to grip Hotch's arm, either for his reassurance or her own. Gideon wanted to know the answer as well; this doctor was more than she appeared.

"Two reasons. First, I've been in this business for 40 years, working with most of the government agencies as well as in the emergency rooms of several different major cities. I know the difference between a drug trip gone bad and...something else. This rang every alarm bell I had, and when your alert came in I was pretty much sure. I ran a few tests I normally don't do and one came up positive. The second drug is a fairly sophisticated psychotic, but for some reason it was given in such a low dosage that the effects are limited."

"And what is the second reason?" This time the question came from J.J.

"This was found when the emergency room staff took his clothes..." she held up a finger to forestall Morgan as he opened his mouth to comment, "...which I saved for your analysis." She picked up a specimen bag from the bedside table and handed Gideon. "The clothes are in there." She gestured to a larger but similar bad on the chair before handing Gideon a pair of surgical gloves. "I thought you'd want these as well."

Jason nodded a surprised thank you and, after donning the gloves, opened the bag and slid the note out. Flipping it open, he went cold as the verse leaped out at him, destroying any hope that Reid would be found as easily.

One man you have back;

I throw you a bone.

The other is mine

and mine all alone.

Replacing it in the bag, he handed it to Elle and he addressed the doctor. "When can we talk to Agent Hotchner?"

She looked at the group, now bunched instinctively in a protective arch around the bed. "I wouldn't count too heavily on getting any really useful information out of him. He may remember something, but pulling the pertinent details out of everything it's mixed in with may be difficult." She gave an encouraging smile. "That's the bad news. The good news is that neither drug should have a permanent effect. The sedative is wearing off by itself; in fact, it's all but gone now...which is why he was conscious enough to go off like that. The other we are treating with a counter-agent; that one is a bit more stubborn, but then so am I." She looked at them each, and then focused on Gideon. "Like I said, you can play attendants, but on two conditions. If there is any sign of a reaction, I want you to call me immediately. And if all of you have to leave the room, make sure an orderly is here before you do. There's no compromise on those two rules; break them and you won't even get on this floor before I release him."

Elle and J.J. both opened their mouths to protest, but Gideon forestalled them with a raised hand. Despite her favorite aunt looks and attitude, he knew she would happily carry out her threat. "Understood, Doctor. In return, if none of us are here when he wakes up and can talk, I want you to call us at any one of these numbers." He handed over a list of phone and pager numbers.

She nodded her agreement and slid it into a coat pocket. "I'll leave instructions with the floor staff." She slid smoothly between Morgan and the bed to perform another check; the taller agent backed quickly away to give her room, which was a measure of how impressed he was. "His latest blood work indicates that he's on course with my calculations, which means the second drug should be out of his system sometime late tomorrow morning. You can stay until then, come back on your own, or come back when we call you. Now I need to get back to my other patients." She hung her stethoscope around her neck and headed for the door. There, she paused and looked back at them with a smile. "Nice to meet you all. And don't worry...we'll take good care of him." With a confident stride, she disappeared out of the room.

Gideon turned to the other agents. "We'll take six-hour shifts here, but we need to get to work on locating Reid as well. J.J., are there any media stories pending?"

"Nothing's been released except for the basic report of Hotch's apprehension and transport here; no identification of him as a FBI agent."

"Elle, what about the local police department?"

"Only thing of interest was that he was found on one of docks that serve the local area and occasionally some of the smaller Bahamian islands." She shrugged. "They've handed off jurisdiction to the local office. They started a routine search, but want to keep things quiet until they have something to report."

He nodded. "Then you take first shift. The rest of us need to get back to base. Morgan, I want you to check and see if forensics has come up with anything. Elle, contact the local P.D. and see if we can get a look at where they found him. Let's go."

The trio left the room, Elle giving Hotch's hand a squeeze and whispering some reassurance into his ear before leaving. Jason paused just long enough to see J.J. pull one of the chairs over to the bed and sit down, starting the long watch. Then he turned his attention to finding answers.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

It was the unexpected comfort of something much nicer than the crude cot and blanket he'd gotten used to that first penetrated the darkness. Then the cool air, scented with antiseptic, caught his attention; had they moved him because of his worsening condition? Finally, the low murmur of voices roused him fully; this was the first time he'd ever heard any of his captors talk. And it seemed like there was more than the two of them as well. He lay silent, not waiting to give his captors notice of his awareness. Maybe he could learn something about Reid. The thought of the young profiler brought a sudden and surprising rush of pain, and he tried to prevent a low moan from escaping. But, although he made no noise, his effort did not go unnoticed. The voices stopped immediately, and a wave of shame cut through him. He felt bodies gather around him and he went rigid, preparing himself for anything.

"Hotch? Hey pal, you in there?"

He gritted his teeth and refused to answer. It couldn't be who it sounded like. But the second voice shattered his reserve.

"Hotch, there's no need to hide anymore. You're safe."

His eyes flew open to find the faces of his teammates hovering over him. Elle and J.J. were smiling broadly, with a hint of tears in the blonde's eyes. Morgan was on the other side of the bed, grinning cheekily at him. But it was Gideon he looked for, finding him standing at the foot of the bed. His expression was welcoming, but Hotch could tell the news wasn't all good.

"You haven't..." His voice was dry and hoarse, and Elle quickly offered him a few sips of cool water. Then he gathered his energy again, but Gideon beat him to the punch.

"No, Reid is still missing. We have a general idea of where the two of you might have been held, but is there anything you can give us?"

He started to sit up, only to be jerked back by the restraints. He looked down in surprise, then up at the others worriedly. "What happened? What did I do?"

Elle laid a hand on his shoulder in support. "Nothing that won't heal." She and Morgan unfastened the straps and let them fall to hang off the bed frame.

Hotch lifted his hands and started to rub one wrist, wincing as he touched the bandage that covered raw flesh. He watched absently as J.J. reached over and pressed the room button, wondering what his fellow agents weren't telling him.

The answer to that came through the door, a large male orderly with a glorious black eye. The staffer frowned briefly to see him without restraints, and then smiled ruefully at Hotch's embarrassed expression. "That's okay, pal. Just one of the risks of the job. But I'd better let Dr. Alex know you're back with us." He grinned evilly at the others. "I'll let the rest of you explain why you released him without orders." He left the room with a snicker.

It was only a minute or two before "Dr. Alex" entered, her gender taking Hotch a bit aback. She moved over to the bed and briskly ran an examination. "Well, it looks like you're back to normal, I'm glad to say. But I want to keep you for a few more days to give those ribs a chance to heal - you did them no good at all yesterday. Plus we can make sure the drugs don't have some weird after-effect." She patted his arm. "Don't worry; I'll explain everything after you're finished with your team." She turned and moved to the door, then paused and turned back with a hard glare totally at odds with her former manner. "And if they EVER do anything with a patient without my express permission - such as releasing restraints - I'll toss them so far they'll land out of state!" She smiled grimly at them. "Have a nice day."

He simply stared as the doctor exited and the door closed behind her. When no one else said anything, he shook his head and forced his focus back to the situation at hand. This time there was no unwanted wave of emotion. He gathered his wits and thought back, trying to separate what he actually remembered from what was probably drug-induced. The others waited patiently until he spoke. "I don't think I can tell you much. Our car must have been rigged. Just before I passed out, two cops showed up...only they weren't. After that I spent all my time in a single rough cell; it was hot and humid and smelled of vegetation, that's all I know. The only people I saw were the fake cops, but neither did any talking. Then one day I passed out and the next thing I clearly remember is waking up just now." He looked up at his teammates. "How long? Does Haley know what happened?"

"It's been eight days since you went missing," J.J. said. "Haley thinks you got roped into a case down here after the conference and we came down to help out. She said she'll stay at her mom's until you get back. You have nothing to worry about at home."

Hotch relaxed as much as his worry about Reid would allow. "So how did you find out about us?"

Gideon grimaced. "Garcia got an email addressed to me at the BAU general address talking about two missing agents. Everyone else was there. We called the hotel and found out you'd never checked in."

Hotch nodded slowly as Morgan continued the briefing. "You were right about the car. There was a gas canister attached to the air conditioning unit, set up to vent just enough sleep gas to knock you out slowly. The unsub knew you'd use it and didn't want you hurt. Other than that, the car is totally clean...not even your fingerprints. J.J. says the neither the local nor state police had a car in that area at the time, but police vehicles and uniforms are all too easy to replicate. Apparently a more concentrated version of the gas was used to get you back here. According to their report, you were found dumped on a dock by the crew of a local trawler, who reported it to the maritime authorities who called in the city cops. Given the traffic in the area and the weather, we figure you were there for between 6 to 12 hours. We're running a search of all boats that used the area in that time frame, but nothing yet. The doctor says you were also dosed with a high-level psychotic." He paused and grinned. "By the way, I wouldn't try to argue with her about anything." He continued. "We're also running tests on your clothes to see if we can get a better line on where you were held."

As if conjured, his cell phone rang. Pulling it off his belt, he snapped it open. "Agent Morgan." He listened for a several minutes, nodding and making affirmative noises. A grim smile crossed his face as he hung up and addressed the group. "People have been busy. Forensics has identified some plant remnants caught in your pants cuffs as only growing on a few of the Bahaman islands. The police located four boats that put in within a mile of the dock where they found Hotch within the proper timeframe. Based on their filed courses, two of them hit two of those islands. One was a tramp steamer that hit both islands, and the other was a private yacht."

At his feral smile, Gideon slanted his head in a silent question. "The private yacht made several strips between one island these docks. One was a few nights ago ... and one was just before and after Hotch and Reid flew in for the conference."

Gideon nodded emphatically. "That's our baby." He tapped his teeth with a finger. "It seems a little too easy, but we have to follow up."

Morgan nodded in agreement. "The local office has obtained permission from their consulates to run searches on them, under the jurisdiction of the local authorities. They're waiting to see if we want to go along.

"Okay," Gideon focused on his teammates. "We'll have to split up. Morgan, you and I will take the search. J.J., you and Elle stay here." At their look of disappointment, he went on. "We need someone here to coordinate all aspects of this and make sure we don't lose any details." Hotch tried to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, only to be stopped and pushed back down by the blonde. Gideon smiled. "Not to mention somebody needs to ride herd on Agent Hotchner. I think you'll have better luck than the hospital staff. Of course, you can always call on Dr. Harvey for reinforcements."

Everyone chuckled except for Hotch, who glowered but realized that he was really in no shape to join the search. The stab of pain from his ribs underscored that judgment, even if he'd managed to hide it. And he didn't want to run afoul of the formidable doctor. All his profiling experience, as well as the reactions of the others to her, told him that would be a very bad move.

The others began a general movement toward the door, tossing goodbyes and well wishes over their shoulders as they disappeared. He could understand their eagerness to be out and gone; he was on the mend, but Reid was still out there somewhere, undergoing who knew what. But he felt a bit bereft, stuck on the sidelines for the foreseeable future. Then he sat up as the doctor re-entered the room. The more he knew about what had happened, the better he could follow orders and the sooner he could get out and help the search. With that emphasis, he focused on her as she began to explain.

Gideon watched from his seat on the sidelines as Morgan stood at the front of the conference room assigned to the BAU team in the FBI's local headquarters. Facing him were the local agents assigned to the case and rest of his team minus Hotch, who was still in the hospital. He was grateful for that small favor, because there was no way he wanted the other agent to see what they had until he was stronger.

"Based on investigation of maritime records, the boat that was used to transport the unsubs and our people was identified as the private vessel "Destiny's Brother". It was seized at the marina and its crew arrested. Questioning of the captain and crew confirmed that two men matching our agents' descriptions were transported to the main port of Andros Island in the Bahamas, accompanied by two natives. They also stated that Hotch and Reid were returned to the mainline in the company of an unknown individual. They did not ask any questions, having been paid well for their services…including the yacht."

He clicked the remote to display a picture of a group of buildings nestled in the jungle on the screen behind him. "Interviews with locals led to a small complex in the middle of the island. Agent Gideon and I found the ID badges of Agents Hotchner and Reid in two rooms of the main building. The bodies of two local toughs," here he displayed the pictures of the two men, "Miguel and Manuel Rodriguez, were found just outside one of the smaller buildings. Further questioning of the dock workers identified Miguel as the man who accompanied Agent Hotchner to the mainland. Agent Hotchner has since identified both men as the fake policemen who took him and Agent Reid from their car."

Derek displayed a second picture, this one of a smaller Caucasian in a lab coat. "A third body was found in the main room of the complex. So far there has been no identification made of this individual. We have determined that he was the leader of this group, having paid for the rental of the complex, supplies, and the hire of the Rodriguez brothers. However, he is not the unsub who directed the abduction of our agents and probably still holds Dr. Reid."

A local agent raised a hand, and Morgan nodded for him to speak. "Do you have any leads on this fourth person?"

Morgan shook his head. "Only some voice prints on tapes discovered at the site. From evidence obtained at the scene, the three men were paid in cash. We found a short-wave radio set on which instructions were apparently received, but it was set to the local police band when we arrived." He turned off the projector and finished up. "We have some indication that the unsub has brought Dr. Reid to the mainland; a stranger arrived at the island approximately 4 hours before Agent Hotchner was discovered. He was met by the local leader of the trio, stayed for an hour, and then left on the Destiny with one other man…that man's description matches Dr. Reid's. The registration numbers were listed to a boat destroyed three years ago off the coast of Cape Cod."

Gideon stood up. "The unsub is obviously someone of means, with a high intelligence and a grudge against the BAU. The abduction was meticulously planned and executed, aimed specifically at the BAU agents who would be attending the conference, thereby separated from the team and probably out of contact for an extended period of time without concern. The notifications we have received from him indicate that he has further plans for us. His release of Agent Hotchner says he wants us to know he can give us any lead and it will do us no good. He disposed of his underlings immediately and without hesitation, using a single bullet to the back of the head. That means that he cares only for his goals, and once something or someone has served its purpose it will be discarded."

"What about Agent Reid?"

"Based on evidence recovered at the site, we believe the unsub has a special purpose for him. Until that purpose is achieved, he is as safe as possible given the current situation."

He didn't mention the laboratory-type room found in the enclave, with its special equipment and the table with padded restraints. He didn't mention the blood dotting the area that matched Reid's type alone. He didn't mention the tapes showing Reid strapped to that table for hours at a time, bombarded by lights and sounds, injected with unknown drugs. He didn't mention anything that would let out the emotions that all of the team held in check by the slimmest of margins.

"Our team will be returning to Quantico to coordinate the search from a central location." He could feel the others stiffen in surprise even at this distance, but went on without missing a beat. "The rest of you will continue working this end. We need to track the boat that took Agent Reid from the island. Any clue...where it came from, where it went to, anyone who saw anything...puts us closer to recovering him. Keep in touch. That's all."

He sagged against the desk, closing his eyes as the local officers rose and filed out, talking quietly to each other. He fought off a wave of weariness with an effort of will that was getting harder to summon. Then, hearing people moving up beside him, he opened his eyes and looked at the rest of the team. His grim expression stopped the obvious arguments before they were spoken.

"I don't like it any more than the rest of you do, but we still have a job to do. There are already two cases waiting for us back home. Hotch is being discharged in an hour or so, and we'll be heading for the airport as soon as that happens."

Morgan looked mutinous, while Elle was coldly outraged and J.J. horrified, but all of them swallowed whatever they might have said in the heat of the moment. Gideon was only too grateful for their restraint, because he didn't have any counter argument that would have convinced himself, let alone them. He pushed away from the desk. "Let's collect Hotch and go home."

As the rest followed him out of the room, he wondered if it would really feel like home without Reid.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Author's Note: This chapter previously had both 4 and 5 in it, then I posted 5 separately. I have removed 5 from here. Mea culpa on the original.

Hotch stared between the blinds of his office at the BAU bullpen. The lead agent looked much better after several days at home, being fussed over by a concerned Haley, and limited duty at work, but the marks of his captivity were still evident to those who knew him. The marks of Reid's absence were just as evident in the office. It had been almost two weeks since their return from Florida, and, while his return to light duty three days ago had helped elevate the gloom, Reid's fate still hung heavy over the team. It was too quiet; what conversation there was between the group sparse and muted, and there was none of the usual light-hearted byplay. They still did their job, handling the three cases that had come their way with their normal skill and dispatch, but their hearts obviously weren't in it. Now there was scuttlebutt throughout the office about discussions among the higher-ups on a possible break-up of the team.

The phone behind him rang, and he froze for a second or two, some part of him shivering with dread. A second ring pulled him over to his desk and he picked up the receiver as he sat down. "Hotchner." As he listened, his grip tightened as excitement poured through him. As the voice ended, he somehow managed to acknowledge the orders and hang up. With a few quick strides, he reached the door and flung it open so hard that it slammed against the wall.

"Gideon!" The name was a half-shout as Hotch exited the office, freezing everyone in the bullpen. He ran down the stairs to the bullpen floor, followed by an anxious J.J. who had come out of her office at his yell. He summoned the already-standing Morgan and Elle with a jerk of his head as the senior profiler came out of his own office.

"Reid's been spotted."

The news electrified the office, even those agents not specifically part of his group. His four teammates gathered around to hear the details.

"We just got news from Nevada. Apparently, a county policeman just outside of Las Vegas was manning a speed trap at a local convenience store. He came out of the store with coffee and noticed a sedan getting gas. Something about the person fueling the car alerted him, so he looked closer as he came around the pump. As soon as the driver saw him, he jumped in the car and took off, but not before the officer recognized Reid as the passenger. The officer pursued, and after about three miles, Reid either bailed out or was pushed out. The cop kept chasing the car; since he'd already called for backup, he told them to stop and pick up Reid."

"Yes!" Morgan pumped a fist. "Good job, kid!" But Elle put a hand on his arm, still watching Hotch.

"What went wrong?" she asked. "If the Las Vegas police had Reid, you would have said he'd been recovered, not spotted."

"I don't know. When backup got to the site where Reid left the car, he was gone. Nothing to tell where he went, either. Unfortunately, the pursuing policeman lost the unsub; they found the car abandoned several miles away. I have permission from the Director for us to go out and assist in the search. Now that we have a solid lead, he believes we are the best to figure out where Reid might have gone." A somber smile flashed across his face, the first smile of any kind since he'd left for the conference. "Actually, his exact words were 'Since he's your teammate, you'll know his moves and reactions. Besides, you're all depressing the hell out of the rest of us, so get your asses out there and bring him back.'" He looked at the assembled group. "Let's follow orders, people."

With newly-energized enthusiasm, the team scattered like a covey of startled quail to do just that.

Gideon stared at the map on the wall, which depicted Las Vegas and the surrounding area. Behind him he knew the rest of the team was interviewing the county officer and reviewing flight schedules and car rentals in hopes of catching a lead on the unsub's arrival and identity. But something nagged at him, something to do with location.

He rubbed his eyes briefly. It had only been 24 hours since they'd received news of Reid, and none of them had really slept since that announcement. Add to that the fact that nobody had really been sleeping all that well since the initial kidnapping, and enthusiasm could only take you so far. He knew that exhaustion was clouding their judgment, but neither he nor the rest of the team could force themselves to stop.

He refocused on the map. A red pushpin marked the place where Reid had last been seen. Nothing in the area attracted much attention; it was a standard small suburb on the edge of the desert like most others of its type. But there was something...

"Not much to see, is there?" Elle said as she moved up beside him. "Except for Vegas itself, it's all sand and scrub." She gave a forced laugh. "Give me New York as a home town anytime."

He turned at stare at her as a mental flash went off. "Where did Reid grow up?"

"Here," she replied, obviously at a loss.

"No," he shook his head violently. "What's the address?"

"I don't know. Morgan!" Her call summoned the second agent; its urgency brought Hotch and J.J. as well.

Gideon addressed the group. "Do any of you know the address of Reid's parents' home?"

There were negative headshakes all around, then Morgan snapped open his cell phone. Pushing a speed-dial number, he waited a few seconds for Garcia's voice. "Penelope, we need the address of Reid's parents here in Las Vegas." After exchanging a much-shortened exchange of their normal banter, he jumped straight into his request.

Gideon turned back to the map as the younger man finished his brief conversation and hung up. He watched as a local officer, drawn by the activity, quickly placed a second pushpin on the map. Only five miles separated the two, and his hunch grew stronger.

"You're hurting and confused...scared and running for your life. You find yourself in familiar surroundings. Where would you go?"

Elle answered for them all. "Home".

Hotch shook his head as the team exited the SUV. This was where Reid had grown up? It looked like every other small ranch in the area, located on several acres of scrub desert. A single-story house fronted the road, backed up by several outbuildings. A mix of young adults, leavened by a few older people, moved around the buildings and horse pastures. According to the accompanying officers, this was a half-way house for young inner-city offenders, with an excellent turnaround rate. Practically everyone gave the newly-arrived authorities curious (and in some cases antagonistic) glances, but no one moved to intercept the party.

They had broken several traffic laws getting here, but the presence of two squad cars had prevented any repercussions. Sirens might have further eased their way, but Gideon had vetoed their use; if Reid was there, they didn't want to spook him.

Once everyone was gathered outside the car, Hotch sent Morgan and Elle around to the back of the house, sending a couple of the patrolmen with them. As they started off, he and Gideon approached the front door and knocked. There were sounds of movement inside, then the door opened a crack and a woman looked out around the door chain.

"Can I help you?" Her gaze went beyond him to the police cars in the road and her eyes narrowed, but there was no fear in the look she returned to him.

"Mrs. Reid?" At her quick nod, he tried to smile." "I'm Special Agent Aaron Hotchner of the BAU." He extended his identification and it was studied closely. "This is Special Agent Jason Gideon. We work with your son, and we were hoping you could help us find him." Now there was indecision in her look. "Please, Mrs. Reid," Hotch pleaded. "Your son has done nothing wrong, but he needs help."

She stared at him for a few moments, clearly taking his measure. Then the door closed and the chain was drawn back. When it opened again, the woman slipped out onto the porch and closed it firmly behind her instead of letting them in.

Hotch studied her as she looked him and Gideon over. Older than he would have expected with a 24-year-old son, she had the same build and coloring as her son. She was neatly if conservatively dressed, and a stately demeanor and beauty transcended her years. But there was a strength of character in her eyes that warned him she did not possess the retiring nature of her son, nor would she hesitate to fight for her own.

"Spencer has spoken of you both." Her voice was deep and cultured, with a slight accent Hotch couldn't place. "I will trust you because he does, and his trust is not easily won."

"Is he here?" Gideon asked just as a thunderous bark shattered the quiet.

Instead of answering his question, the woman smiled slightly and whistled twice. "I suggest you call your people away from the back of the house. If Senshi has sounded a warning, then Kage is in position to attack." She gave the names a Japanese pronunciation.

Hotch glanced at Gideon in surprise, but pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt. "Morgan, Elle. Come around front."

"And have them bring the two policemen with them," she added. He looked back at her and her smile quirked a bit. "Two patrol cars, two men in each. One pair still out front," she waved at the officers in sight. "Where else would the others be?"

He could feel Gideon's half-smile without looking and passed on the message.

"No problem, Hotch. No problem at all."

The note of studied unconcern in Morgan's voice puzzled him until the four people came around the corner of the house, walking carefully under the watchful eyes of a large Akita. The broad splashes of brown and white made the dog appear even bigger, as did the ruffled fur and the showy display of very white and very sharp teeth. Not that the animal needed any improvement on that score. Once the two agents had reached the porch and the officers were back by the cars, the dog relaxed slightly and moved over beside the woman. She stroked the broad head and whistled once more, this call lower and longer. The agents looked around, and were surprised when a second Akita, her black coat only slightly marked with white, appeared from what seemed nowhere and joined her companion to flank their person. Only then did the woman speak again.

"To answer your question, Agent Gideon, yes he is. He showed up last night, obviously physically and mentally abused. I was waiting until he was stronger before alerting the authorities, but your arrival has forestalled that. Two of you can come in, but I must insist you proceed slowly." Morgan opened his mouth and she closed it with a single look. "I have no problem defending my son, Agent...against anyone." She didn't move, but both dogs laced their ears back and deep growls rumbled in both chests.

Hotch held up his hands. "That won't be necessary, Mrs. Reid. We don't want to hurt Re...Spencer any more than you do."

She studied first him and then Gideon again. "Very well. Come with me." She turned and led the way inside.

The interior of the house matched the remarkable woman who inhabited it. While not overly-cluttered, the furnishings were rich and in excellent taste. The few decorations were of Japanese origin. The dogs padded into the large living room, halted for a split second, then took off down the hallway at a run. Instinctively Hotch drew his gun as Mrs. Reid darted down the hallway after them. She stopped at the second door, which gaped open. "Spencer?" The small room was empty. "He heard the dogs outside and knew there were strangers around."

Hotch cursed under his breath, wondering for a split-second what terror had driven the young man to flight and where he might have gone. A quick look took in the fact that the room's windows were closed. Then a following scan caught the faint movement of the chain on the back door. "He went out the back." As he took the first running step to follow, a slender but powerful hand stopped him cold.

"Don't do that, Agent Hotchner." Reid's mother looked up at him with clear command. "There are only a few places my son can reach from here, and I will show you. But the dogs know something's wrong, and if you move too aggressively, they may react before I can stop them." He glanced at the animals, noting the looks of focused attention they were giving him and Jason. Mrs. Reid continued. "And if you go charging after him, my residents will very likely react...negatively as well. Let me take the lead, and we can handle this without incident."

She led them out of the house, sending the dogs ahead with a soft-spoken command in Japanese. As they raced toward one of the barns, Aaron realized what she meant. What looked to be all of the ranch hands, most between the ages of 18 and 25 and with the uniform look of trouble waiting to happen, had placed themselves between the house and the rest of the buildings. The looks were now all routinely hostile, and several clutched various tools in their hands. It was clear that they had seen Reid's flight and were ready and willing to confront the people they saw as intruders. The few older people were doing their best to defuse the situation, but not getting very far. Hotch stopped at her raised hand and then watched as Mrs. Reid approached what appeared to be the leaders. She spoke to them quietly, receiving a few gestures from two of them and then reluctant nods from all. He and Gideon moved forward again at her summoning wave, noticing that all but a couple of the most-wary youths went back to their chores, and even those withdrew to a discrete distance. With a silent sigh of relief, he followed her into the barn.

The interior wasn't as dark as he had anticipated; all of the doors were open and the stalls empty...except one, whose door was almost closed. Because of the quiet, the muffled sobs from that one echoed clearly. Mrs. Reid called the male dog guarding the door to her. She spoke in command, lifting her voice enough to reach the other dog. She spoke softly to the agents. "They will let you take Reid now, even if he panics." Then she gestured for the agents to proceed.

The pair moved forward slowly to the stall. With a nod, Hotch waited as Gideon slowly opened the door. The dark-haired agent gritted his teeth when the light from the main hallway illuminated Reid huddled against the back wall, the female Akita pressed against him as he tried to stifle his cries in her coat. No matter how the Reid Effect might work on all other dogs the young doctor had ever come in contact with, it didn't hold here. But what tightened Hotch's throat was the pure pain and terror the sounds revealed.

Gideon moved cautiously forward and crouched next to the crumpled form, putting a gentle hand on the boy's shaking shoulder. At his touch, Reid exploded out of the alcove, taking the older man (for the second time on this case) totally by surprise. The slighter man ran straight through him, bowling him over in his panicked dash to escape.

Hotch jumped to intercept the fleeing man, trusting that the orders Reid's mother had given the dogs would hold. He wrapped his arms around Reid, wincing internally at the wasted feel of the body under his grasp. The young man struggled wildly, his silence as unnerving as his cries had been.

"Reid! Stop it, it's Hotch!" He tried to control the other man without hurting him further. "You're safe, Reid. It's Hotch and Gideon!"

The body went rigid. Wide, terror-filled eyes lifted to meet his. "H-H-Hotch? You got out? We got out?"

He tightened his grip as Reid sagged against him, sitting down on the dirt floor as he cushioned the young man's fall. "Easy, Reid. It's me. We're both out of there."

He continued to comfort the trembling man, rocking gently as the two dogs came over without prompting and pressed against them in concern. He watched, murmuring soft nonsense words into the blond hair under his chin, as Gideon got to his feet and moved over to Reid's mother.

"Did you find anything with him, Mrs. Reid?"

Without a word she handed Gideon a folded piece of paper from her pocket and then came to sit next to him, making no move to take his place but instead gently stroking her son's back and adding her own reassurances. Hotch knew what the note had to be, and simply nodded as Gideon showed him the rough verse before going outside to arrange for Reid's transport.

If you get what is mine,

even then you don't win.

You may have his body,

but his mind is within.

He sat there, suddenly a part of Reid's family and support group, and tried to figure out how to put the pieces back together.

Note from the author: Senshi (pronounced Sen-She) and Kage (Kah-gay) are Japanese for "warrior" and "shadow". I proudly admit this is homage to my two late Maine Coon cats.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Gideon sat in the corner of the hospital room. He felt better having Reid under the care of Bureau doctors, who were used to all types of injuries, both physical and mental. The fact that this put him close enough for the team to check on a daily basis was an added benefit. As he watched the doctors run their daily examination of the younger man, he thought about the past several days.

The first problem had been getting Reid stabilized enough that they would allow him to be transported back to Virginia. Most of that had been done under heavy sedation, to keep him from undoing any good that the treatment provided by struggling. Only Aaron had been with Reid the entire time, so only he knew first-hand the effects of over three weeks of mistreatment. But Gideon had read the reports and seen the photos, and was well-versed in the interpretation of such data. Reid had lost weight he could ill-afford to lose, and practically every bone showed through his pale skin. That same paleness was a stark background to the multitude of cuts and bruises that marred most of his body from the neck down; most were semi-healed, but some were fresh enough to indicate that the abuse had continued up to the time of his escape. Actually, given what he had seen on the tapes recovered from the island, Gideon wondered that there wasn't more damage.

Once the local doctors had released him into the care of his fellow agents, there had been the strained flight from Nevada back to Virginia. There had been no privacy on the small jet, and the entire team had witnessed the cringing silence Reid hid behind and the bouts of hysteria with which he greeted every movement in his direction. Only the partial sedation, insisted on by the Vegas doctors, had made the trip remotely bearable. That, and Hotch's presence. To nearly everyone's surprise, Hotch could approach him without triggering a reaction, and only he could calm the panic. Whether it was because the young profiler identified with the older agent as a fellow victim, as a trusted leader, or subconsciously included him in his family unit didn't matter. All that mattered was that there was someone who could help.

Once installed in the hospital at Quantico, however, his fight had shifted to total compliance. Normally he argued (in the mildest and politest terms) with all doctors; he also hated being touched, especially by strangers. But now he was allowing anything with a dull acceptance that spoke of fatalism. Actually, in Gideon's mind such complete obedience was worse than the hysteria, which at least showed some spirit.

A faint protest broke through the quiet murmurs and brought Gideon's attention back to the present. A nurse was approaching the bed with a new IV bag, and the injured man glared at the nurse with fear but also defiance. Immediately Hotch was beside the trembling man, speaking to him softly. With a deep breath, Reid held himself still until the new drip was established, then he slowly relaxed again. A faint smile flashed across the drawn face at Hotch's praise.

This positive sign brought a familiar half-smile to Gideon's face, as did Hotch's solicitousness. The team leader had been there every time the doctors worked with Reid and most of the daylight hours as well. His very presence had helped keep Reid calm, and his soft reassurances usually banished the terror attacks that struck almost at random. Gideon wondered if Hotch realized he was treating Reid like a father handled a frightened son. To him it was obvious that the birth of his own child had triggered paternal instincts in Hotch that were spilling over into the current situation. Which was a good thing for Reid...and Hotch as well.

There had seemed to be steady recovery over the last two days, and he hoped that Reid was ready for the next step. The team needed to get his input if they were going to catch the kidnapper. Gideon didn't believe for a minute that the unsub would just give up now that both Hotch and Reid had been recovered. It just didn't work that way.

He followed the medical staff out of the room, without Reid even noticing him, and stopped the physician in charge of the case. "Doctor, can I get a report on Dr. Reid's condition? I need to know if he's strong enough to talk about his experience."

The doctor didn't even look at his clipboard. "His blood panels are just starting to normalize. He has been suffering from severe dehydration and borderline starvation. He has undergone systematic physical and mental abuse, combined with a mix of suppressant drugs. His mental state is borderline catatonic with episodes of mania. The only good thing about the whole thing is that there's no sign of sexual abuse." He stared at Gideon coldly, clearly believing that the other man was only out for answers, not the well-being of his patient. "I won't be releasing him for even light duty for at least two weeks, and not before a thorough psych evaluation."

Gideon didn't respond to the provocation. "I'm not here to hurt him, Doctor Paris. He's a valued member of my team. But we need to know anything he can tell us in order to prevent the person who did this from getting back at him. The sooner he can help us, the sooner we can catch this person."

The doctor's tension ebbed with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Agent Gideon. Some cases just get to you, despite everything you've seen." He rubbed his eyes. "He's physically strong enough to be questioned, but I can't even begin to guess about his mental and emotional stability. All I can suggest is that you go slow, back off when necessary, and make sure that Agent Hotchner is there. I'll put the staff on alert so if you need any medical help you'll get it immediately." He turned to move away, then paused and glanced back. "Good luck, Agent. I think you're going to need it."

Gideon shook his head as he re-entered the room. It amazed him how all sorts of people reacted so positively to Reid. He closed the door softly behind him and approached the bed. The movement drew Reid's attention and a split-second withdrawal until he recognized Jason.

"Gideon!" Another, stronger smile brightened the young man's face. "It's good to see someone else not dressed in white."

Jason returned the smile and squeezed the young man's shoulder gently. "It's good to see you, too. I'm glad to see you're starting to argue with the doctors again."

A faint blush colored Reid's cheeks as he remembered the "disagreement" over his lunch and obviously thinking the doctors had complained about his lack of cooperation. "I hate liquid diets." Gideon chuckled as Hotch smothered what could only be called a snicker, and Reid's blush deepened. Even his standard meals were on the eclectic side, and the others had often teased him about it. Gideon sat on the edge of the bed. "Reid, do you know why I'm here today?"

The younger agent's cheer vanished, but he struggled to keep his smile. "I wish I could say it was for my winning personality, but...it's not. You need to ask me about what happened." The hand without the IV began to pick restlessly at the cover.

"Just take your time, Reid." Hotch sat down on the other side me of the bed in a support position.

"I remember arriving at the airport and starting for the hotel. Then I woke up in a plain room. Two men came and took me..."

Little by little, the older agents carefully walked him through the initial capture and detention. As they went through the events of three weeks past, it became clear that he remembered far too much of the torture for either man's peace of mind. Unfortunately, no matter how they phrased their questions, he couldn't tell them who the unsub was or what his purpose was.

When Reid at last went silent, Gideon pondered his next move as Hotch handed the shivering man a glass of water and offered encouragement. When the young man had regained his composure, the senior profiler turned to the last two weeks. Again the hand started working on the bed cover, as Reid reported the events of his moving captivity as if they had happened to someone else. Gideon knew Reid would eventually have to fully face what had been done to him, but that would have to wait for a better time. As he listened to the rote recitation of facts, he knew he needed to press the main issue directly.

This time when Reid finished, he didn't allow the other man a break. "I know this is hard for you, but we need as much information as you can give us."

"I don't..." The hand movements increased in speed.

"You do. You know you do. You know we need you to tell us." Gideon didn't physically lean over the recumbent man, but the sheer force of his words did.

"I...no!" The hand clawed at the bed as Reid shut his eyes against the memories.

"Take it easy," Hotch interjected, placing his hand over the younger man's, playing "friend" to Gideon's "interrogator" and shifting the direction of the questions. "Can you tell us what he wanted? Did he tell you that?"

The spastic movements lessened but did not quit entirely. His words came out through rasping breaths. "They...blame me...blame us. I'm supposed to do something...they keep telling me what to do. I tell them I can't...I won't. But they keep after me...they want to hurt us...all of us."

Gideon grimaced; two unsubs working together would be twice as hard to profile. But at the same time, it cut down on the possibilities. "Reid. You have to try and give us something on these people." Jason spoke softly. "We can help you fight them, protect you from them. I know you're fighting them...fighting what they told you to do. Let's us help you. Tell us what they look like...a name...anything."

"I can't tell you anything!" The half-scream was quickly muffled as Reid curled away from him, wrapping his arms over his head in a defensive position. "Don't tell, don't tell. They won't hurt you if you don't tell."

The words repeated in a shaking monotone as Hotch tried to re-establish contact and Gideon pushed the Call button. A nurse entered within a few seconds and immediately injected something into the IV tube. Remembering Hotch's own episode in the hospital, Gideon knew that the powerful sedative would send the young agent into a deep sleep. Once that had happened, he left the nurse to complete the job of settling Reid and pulled Hotch away and out into the corridor with a jerk of his head. Everything on the island and on the tapes had pointed to a conditioning process; this was merely confirmation. And until they knew what Reid had been programmed to do and when, he was a danger to himself and everyone else in the BAU.

The team leader beat him to the punch. "I'll assign an around-the-clock watch on him. There's no telling when he'll go off and how. The rest of us need to step up our review of past cases to see if we can figure out any couples or multiples that might hold a grudge against the BAU." He ran a hand through his hair. "Somehow I get the feeling that's not going to be as easy as we think."

Gideon could only nod and follow as the other man started down the hall toward the security office. Even with this new lead, it could still take a lot of time to narrow down the possibilities to the one person they needed to find. And no one could say if they would have enough to do that.

The hospital was quiet, with the almost graveyard hush that accompanied the pre-dawn hours. Most patients were asleep, either naturally or under sedation. The shift workers moved quietly through the halls on their rounds or gathered in the break rooms to grab a few moments of relaxation. Well away from the Emergency Room and devoted mostly to recovering patients, this floor was usually unhurried and fairly calm.

Reid opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling until they adjusted to the lack of light. Without a sound, he slipped out of bed and moved over to the closet. Opening it, he pulled out the set of casual clothes that hung there and dressed quickly. Then he moved quietly around the room, searching until he found a pen and writing pad in the bedside stand. Writing quickly, he then placed the pad on the side table, picking up the water pitcher that was there. With it in hand, he turned and moved toward the door, with a quick detour to empty the pitcher in the bathroom sink. Once at the door, he paused to crack it slightly, peering out to check the hallway. Seeing the guard sitting in a straight chair with his nose in a magazine, he closed it just as softly and waited, listening carefully for a few minutes until voices sounded in the hallway.

"How goes the watch, Alan?" The night nurse's voice was cheerful despite the late hour, but the guard's reply was tired and bored.

"As well as late shift baby-sitting can be, Carla." He heard the man stand up and stretch fairly noisily. "You still want that ride home at end of shift?"

"Yes, please. I really appreciate it...I hate taking public transportation while my car's in the shop."

"No problem. I need to check on sleeping beauty before I hit the can, then it's back to my magazine. I'11 see you in a few hours."

"Will do. Thanks again." The squeak of her shoes disappeared down the hall.

By the time the guard opened the door, Reid was back in bed, the covers pulled up to hide his state of dress. Breathing shallowly and steadily to mimic sleep, he waited until the man was beside the bed. Then he whipped down the covers and shot into a sitting position. Before the guard could react, one hand brought the water pitcher up to deal the man a solid blow to the temple while the other grabbed his shirt.

Whether it was luck or skill, the strike was perfectly placed and took the man down immediately. Reid's hold on the shirt brought the limp body across the bed instead of crashing to the floor, minimizing the noise. Quickly he rolled out of the bed and installed the limp body in his place after rifling the guard's pockets and taking his wallet and handcuffs. Covering the man with the covers to disguise his identity from a superficial glance, Reid then moved back to the door and checked the hallway. Finding it empty, he slipped out of the room. Within seconds, he was gone.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Gideon hurried into the room, looking around to catch the nuances of the situation. A guard sat in a chair, holding an ice-pack to his temple and answering the questions of another officer. The room itself was relatively undisturbed, only the bed disheveled. Accustomed to noticing the out-of-place, Jason zeroed in on the notepad resting on the side table. Pulling on rubber gloves as he moved over, he carefully noted its position before picking it up and looking at it. The words were written in Reid's distinct script, but the message was not.

Now when he attacks,

which one will he take?

One or more he can choose;

Which one will he break?

Jason bit down on a curse and dropped the pad into an evidence bag. Given what he had heard the guard and the night-shift nurse tell their questioners, Reid had been gone for almost three hours. That meant he could be almost anywhere and doing anything. Handing the evidence bag to an investigator, he pulled out his cell phone as he moved out of the room. He hit the speed dial as he walked down the hall toward the exit.

The other end rang only once before it was picked up. "BAU, Agent Morgan."

Gideon didn't waste time. "Derek, Reid's gone. He attacked the guard, took his wallet, and vanished. Based on what we learned yesterday, he's probably operating under conditioned orders."

"Shit!" Morgan's response wasn't nearly as controlled. "And we still have half a dozen possible suspects. Do you think he'd headed for a rendezvous with the unsub or something else?"

"I don't know," Jason answered. "There was another verse in Reid's room, threatening a direct attack, but what his next move will be is anyone's guess. The trigger was probably our attempt to get Reid to identify the unsub. An APB has gone out, but we need to figure out where he is and fast. Who else is in?"

"Elle is right here. Hotch went home about an hour ago to grab a couple of hours of sleep and a change of clothes." There was a brief pause. "I'll have Garcia start a trace of the guard's credit card number; if Reid uses it, we'll know a general location."

"Good idea. I'll call Hotch and then meet you at the office." He hung up, then punched a second speed dial number as he exited the stairs and headed toward his car. His speed increased as the phone continued to ring; no matter how tired the other agent might be, either he or his wife should have answered by now. Concern gripped him as he opened his car door and slid behind the wheel. He hung up again and redialed the BAU.

"Morgan!" He didn't give the responder any time to speak. "No one is answering Hotch's number."

"Say no more," Derek broke in. "I'll call the police and Elle and I will meet you there. Go!"

Gideon dropped the phone on the passenger seat as he started the car. Then, with a squeal of wheels and the blare of horns, he raced out onto the street to try and head off disaster.

Morgan slammed his car to a halt outside of Hotch's suburban home, sandwiching it between a squad car and Gideon's vehicle. The amount of activity put a cold knot in his stomach. Switching the engine off, he jumped out and raced around the front to join Elle in the run into the house. It was in a state of chaos. Police and Bureau agents were everywhere; an attack on FBI personnel was treated with the highest intensity.

"Gideon!" Morgan called out, echoed by Elle's "Hotch!"

Jason appeared at the door of a back room and gave a single imperative summons before disappearing again. Morgan moved to join him, followed by Elle. The scene that greeted them as they entered the room brought a curse to his lips as he heard Elle gasp.

It was the baby's room, and the empty crib was a silent accusation to the entire group. Hotch sat on one side of a love seat, fending off an EMT who was trying with little luck to bandage the gash that had sent blood cascading down his face. Haley sat next to him, white with strain but surprisingly calm. Gideon crouched next to her, talking softly to the pair.

As Morgan came up, Hotch tried to stand but practically collapsed back into his seat. Morgan put a hand on his shoulder, preventing any further attempt. "Hey, man. Let the EMT do his job before you make it worse. You'll be no help if you end up in the hospital again."

The paramedic shot him a grateful look and took advantage of his patient's disorientation to quickly apply his antiseptic and bandage. As he packed up with a sigh, he addressed the standing agent. "As soon as you can, get him over to the hospital to check for concussion. I'm hoping you'll have better luck than I did." With a glare at Hotch, he picked up his equipment and left the room. The amusement Morgan felt at the EMT's pique was quickly swamped by the seriousness of the situation. It was obvious what had happened, but he crouched down next to the seat to hear the facts.

Hotch spoke first. "I got cold-cocked as soon as I got out of the car. I never even saw who it was. I came to in here with Haley. We were both tied up and the baby was gone." The self-accusation in his voice was painfully clear. "Before we could free ourselves, the place was swarming with police and agents."

It was Haley who supplied the pertinent details. "Reid showed up about 15 minutes before Aaron did. I had ordered some takeout food to try and get him to eat something before he went back to work. When someone knocked at the door, I looked out through the spy hole and saw a delivery man. Apparently Reid had ambushed the poor boy and taken his jacket and the food as a way in. By the time I realized who it was, he had grabbed me and had me handcuffed. Then he forced me back into the bedroom. When we heard the car pull up, he gagged me and left. He came back dragging Aaron, who was bleeding like a stuck pig." Her voice wavered, the fear she'd felt for her husband obvious, mingling with the still-present fear for her child. "Reid tied him up, took the baby, and left."

Morgan winced. As soon as they knew about Reid being conditioned, they should have placed guards on everyone associated with the BAU. If anything happened to Hotch's son, none of them would forgive themselves.

"Did he say anything, Haley?" Elle spoke to the other woman softly. "Give you any idea of why he was doing this or where he was going?"

"He was rambling about saving him, taking him to someone who would keep him safe. I tried to get him to tell me why he thought the baby was in danger, how he could even think that I would let anybody hurt Benjamin. That seemed to confuse him, as if he knew that wouldn't happen and that contradicted what he was feeling. I was hoping that I could get through whatever was driving him, but then it was like something clicked inside him. He stopped listening and started to leave. I told him that he needed to dress the baby for the outside, that if he really wanted to keep him safe he needed to tend him properly." She smiled shakily at her husband, who put his arms around her and held her close. "I thought maybe I could keep him here long enough for help to come. But he just pulled a jumper out of the dresser, got it on Benjamin, and left the room. I don't know how he got here, but he took Aaron's car."

Morgan immediately got to his feet and moved to the door to the living room. As he told the officers there to locate Hotchner's car, he kept one ear on the conversation behind him. What he heard next brought him around in surprise.

"You don't need to do that, Derek. I was about to say I can tell you exactly how to find him."

He caught Gideon's eye, wondering if Haley had lost it.

"Don't treat me like a hysterical woman, gentlemen!" she snapped. "Aaron and I have often discussed someone coming after his family. Because of his work in the D.A.'s office, that possibility has always been high, but since joining the BAU I felt it was too great to ignore. When Benjamin was born, we decided to implant a GPS tracking device under the skin of his shoulder. All you have to do is call the Bureau and they can locate him anywhere." Haley smiled tightly at the look on Elle's face. "We'll have it removed when he's old enough to understand the dangers, if that is necessary, but I don't consider that at this time in his life he has any privacy to invade." She shook her head. "Anyway, the FBI was very understanding about our concerns. The tracking number is in my address book in the desk."

Morgan swallowed his astonishment and pulled out his cell phone. Moving to the office, it took him a couple of minutes to find the book, look up the number, and contact Penelope. As she worked on pinpointing the transmitter's location, he returned to the others. Just as he entered the bedroom, she gleefully announced success.

"We have a location," he said, stepping through the door. Immediately Gideon and Elle got to their feet, followed by Hotch.

"No way, man," Derek protested.

Hotch stared him down, pure determination in his dark eyes. "This is my son, Morgan. You can have my weapon if you insist. I'll take a back seat on any confrontation. But I'm going."

Morgan glanced at Gideon. He didn't have the seniority to dispute the other man, but maybe...

The older man shook his head. "It's not worth the fight. Let's get going."

Morgan shrugged, and made a mental note to keep an eye on the other agent just in case. Then he followed his teammates out, hoping that they could get both the baby and Reid back.

Gideon stood by the door to the roof, his gun drawn, as the rest of the team gathered around him. He was waiting for verification of the presence of the unsub before proceeding. Morgan and Elle were on the other side of the exit, and he could feel Hotch pressed against the wall behind him. He crushed any concerns to focus on the immediate situation.

A crackle in his earpiece was followed by a low voice. "Confirm three subjects on the roof. Two adults and one infant. Confirm one adult as Special Agent Reid, standing approximately three feet from the SW corner." There was a pause. "Second subject is holding the infant, pacing in a random pattern but never moving more than ten feet from Agent Reid."

"No sign of anyone else?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Negative."

Gideon consulted his mental picture of the layout of the roof as presented by the building manager. Their current location placed Reid and the unsub on the opposite side of the roof from the doorway, which would allow them to get into a better position before initiating any confrontation. He pressed the Send button.

"Understood. We're moving in. Stand by, but do not fire except on my explicit signal. Confirm."

He waited until all SWAT positions had checked in before nodding to the others. "Go."

Morgan was the first through the door, moving silently to the corner of the stair housing and peering around to spot the target. With that done, he signaled "Clear" to the rest of them. The remaining three agents exited as a body, Gideon and Hotch going to the opposite side from Morgan and Elle moving to back him up.

Gideon looked cautiously around the corner. Reid stood stock still in the growing light of the rising sun, facing away from the edge. His face was blank, a machine waiting for orders. The second person, clad in a bulky cloak and with a mask covering his face, was moving back and forth in front of him, clutching Hotch's son as a shield. Despite the seemingly rough treatment, the baby slept on. As the unsub turned away from him, Gideon moved out to take a position behind an air conditioning unit halfway between the stairs and the edge of the roof, hoping that their second unsub wasn't there or at least not in a position to betray their approach. But it didn't matter.

Whether it was the movement in the corner of his eye, or a shadow catching his attention, the unsub spun around. Caught in the open, Gideon could only freeze and hope he hadn't triggered a violent reaction. The unsub thrust the baby into Reid's arms and snarled something in a low, raspy voice. The young agent backed up, stopping only when he reached the low ledge that rimmed the roof. Once he was in position, the unsub turned to face Gideon.

"I wouldn't use that gun, if I were you, Special Agent Gideon." The harsh voice had an undertone of wildness that made the title a curse and ran a cold finger down Jason's spine. "If I get shot, Agent Reid has orders to go over the edge...taking the baby with him. So you'd better just drop it now before I have him do it anyway."

Jason quickly held his weapon up in a loose grip and then bent over and placed it on the ground. As he straightened, he kept his attention on the unsub, not daring to look around for the others. But the next words dashed whatever hope he had that they would go undetected.

"Very good. Now I want you to have Agents Morgan, Hotchner, and Greenway join us out here in the open. I know they would have come with you."

He hesitated for a moment, and then spoke up quickly as his hand went up and Reid started to shift his weight back against the retaining wall. "Hotch, Morgan...come on out." He looked at him calmly. "Agent Greenway is coordinating from a different location."

He stood there in silence for several seconds, glaring at him and clearly vacillating between belief and rage. Then the arrival of the two other agents into view focused his attention.

"Too bad. In my game, everyone plays or he's out." As the hand started down, Elle hurried into sight, hands empty and in plain sight. Jason bit back his regret at the loss of a potential ace, but couldn't blame her. The unsub continued. "Get over there with him," he ordered, waving them over to Gideon. The three younger agents moved cautiously to flank him.

"What do you want?" Gideon asked as the unsub moved a few steps toward the group, his back toward a still-motionless Reid.

A sudden wild laugh scaled his voice up an octave. "I guess you're not as smart as I thought you were." With a theatrical flair, he flung off the cloak to reveal a high-powered handgun while the other hand pulled off the mask at the same time.

It was then that Jason and the others got their first look at the man who had caused so much pain and worry.

Only it wasn't a man.

At this distance, the male clothing could not conceal the willowy form of a young woman; Gideon placed her age at no more than 30. Her movements were smooth and fluid, bespeaking an athletic bent. Short platinum blonde hair framed delicate features and showcased brilliant green eyes. But the brilliance was that of madness.

"Want?" Scarlet lips peeled back from perfect teeth. "I want vengeance! I want you all to feel what I feel...what I felt when you killed Brian and my entire family!"

The name triggered a memory, one the others didn't have. "How did we do that, Briana?"

The glittering eyes narrowed. "Very good! Now you remember." She took the blank looks of the other agents. "Maybe you should brief the others...let them know the type of person they work for." When he didn't speak, she pointed the muzzle of her weapon between his eyes. "Do it!"

"Brian Stafford killed six college students by arsenic and cyanide poisoning. I was team lead on the case. We cornered him in the family home in late August, 1997. We didn't know he had rigged the house with dynamite from his father's construction company. The house was destroyed by an explosion and resulting fire. Three policemen were killed in addition to most of the family. His twin sister, Briana, was at a prep school activity that day and survived."

"Wrong! There were no survivors...because I might as well have died then, too!" She began to pace. "Everyone said how lucky I was, how the police did all they could. But I knew better…they blew up my home because it was easier! They let him burn...him, our parents, and our younger brothers! The BAU said he was a sociopath, that he was a mass murderer...that he had to be stopped at all costs." She hugged herself against an inner chill. "He was half of me...tow sides of the same coin. How could I survive with half of me missing?" She suddenly smiled sweetly at the assembled agents, who managed not to react to the insanity all too clear in her eyes now. "But he wasn't missing...not for long." The contradiction made no impression on her. "He had to hide, of course, so he hid in here." One hand brushed her temple. "He'll come out when I'm done. He told me so, when he told me what to do." She snickered. "And it was soooo easy. Especially when you have $47 million dollars at your disposal."

"Briana!" Hotch stepped forward, riveting her attention on himself. "You have us. Let Reid and my son go."

"And why should I do that?" she asked in puzzled tone of voice.

"Because I'm begging you." Gideon hid his shock as Morgan hissed a curse behind him at naked desperation in Aaron's voice. "You miss your family...your little brothers. You say we killed innocent people. So don't do to my son what we did to them."

Briana hesitated, staring at Hotch with a peculiar look. Then, amazingly, she gestured with her gun. "Take off your jacket. Drop your guns and headset, then come over here with your hands up."

Gideon made an aborted movement to stop him, but Hotch never twitched as he did exactly as ordered. The senior profiler could only watch helplessly as his team leader moved over to Reid's side as directed, hands laced behind his head.

The unsub looked over at him and the others. "You, too. Everyone toss your guns away...headsets, too."

No one moved for a long second. Hotch turned and his dark eyes met Jason's. Slowly the older agent nodded to the others. Within moments they were unarmed and without communications. Gideon prayed that the unsub wouldn't search them and find the spare guns that Hotch and Morgan carried. Now they would just have to wing it.

The unsub relaxed slightly. Backing up to Reid's side, she whispered something that Gideon was not close enough to hear. Awareness flared in the blank eyes as Reid looked around in confusion, clearly wondering where he was and how he'd gotten here. Briana moved behind him and shoved him toward Gideon.

Despite his first inclination, Jason held his place as Morgan quickly moved forward a pace and grabbed the staggering agent. The younger man pulled Reid to the side, cutting off his teammate's confused questions as Gideon spoke.

"Now what?"

She moved over to Hotch, who tensed despite himself. "Very simple, Special Agent. I want you to die." Her attention shifted to Hotch. "Omega, Alpha, Command Omega!" As she spoke the words, she put her gun in his hand and stepped back.

Hotch stiffened, his face taking on the same blankness that Reid's had held. Without hesitation, he raised the weapon and sighted on Gideon. The senior profiler held his position and lifted empty hands. "Aaron, fight her!" He looked into the empty gaze and softened his tone. "You don't want to do this."

The gun held steady as Hotch's finger tightened on the trigger. Then it began to tremble as conflict swirled in the dark eyes. His attention wavered and Briana repeated the command words, her voice rising in pitch and volume. But before Gideon could move, Morgan stepped up beside him. Hotch's gaze focused on the movement and the gun snapped to the new target.

"Hey, buddy." Gideon froze as Morgan's smooth voice reached out to the conflicted man. "We're your friends, right? You know you can trust us."

Slowly the shaking returned, increasing as Reid, still confused but reading the current situation all too clearly, moved to Gideon's other side. "Hotch." His voice shook as much as the gun now pointed at him. "We've been through so much together. I know how hard it is to fight her, how tough it is to resist the urge to just give in." He shifted the baby in his arms. "For Benjamin, if not for yourself, you have to be strong." As if to add his own plea, Benjamin opened his eyes and blinked at his father, a baby grin of delight lighting his tiny face as he gurgled happily and held out tiny arms.

The gun wavered and finally fell. As it did, Briana screamed in mad frustration and turned to run. The movement triggered her own implanted compulsion, and instantly Hotch spun immediately to target the movement. This time there was no foundation for resistance and he fired without hesitation. The bullet caught her in the right shoulder and spun her around. Already close to the edge of the building, the force of the impact threw her over the low coping and out into space.

Gideon moved as soon as Hotch turned away, as did Morgan. The younger man slipped up to his team leader and pulled the gun from Aaron's limp grip; Jason moved to the roof's edge. As he looked down to the street below, he heard Morgan speak to Hotchner, but there was no reply and no movement on the other man's part. A slight scuffle indicated Reid's approach to his team leader's side, and Morgan moved to join Jason.

"She didn't even try to save herself," Derek said, shaking his head.

Jason looked down at the body on the sidewalk below in the middle of a growing crowd of police and emergency personnel and sighed. "I don't know if she could have been."

"Hotch?" Reid's puzzled voice brought both men around to see the dark-haired agent, now several feet away from where he had been left, slowly straightening with Morgan's discarded gun in his hand. But this time, instead of pointing at one of them, the muzzle was pressed against his own temple. "Hotch, no!"

Jason moved quickly to Reid's side, putting a hand on the smaller man's shoulder to calm him as he noticed Elle, who had moved to reclaim one of the headsets and contact Garcia and the SWAT team, frozen a few feet behind Hotch. He spoke softly, trying to reach him. "Aaron, she's dead. You don't have to worry about her or follow her orders." This time his words didn't have any effect.

As Hotch's hand clenched around the pistol grip, Gideon shouted and shifted to the left, pulling Hotch's attention to himself and turning him away from Elle. As he hoped, Aaron rotated to follow him and the gun jerked down for a split second. That was enough of an opening for Elle to fling herself on the other man, grabbing his gun arm. Hotch fought against the hold, struggling to bring the gun to bear again. Then Morgan joined the melee, using his greater weight to help control the other man. Jason could only watch as the struggle continued for several long seconds. Then the gun went off, and Hotch collapsed in Morgan's hold.

Gideon jumped forward as Morgan lowered the unconscious man to the ground, his face pale. Elle pulled back slightly, the gun held in her hand; she used her headset to call for paramedics. He quickly examined Hotch, the other three agents hovering over him. Everyone sighed in relief when only a graze across his ribs was found.

The arrival of emergency personnel scattered the group. Two paramedics quickly bandaged Hotch's minor wound, loaded the still-unresponsive agent onto a gurney, and whisked him away. Another took the baby from Reid and followed, to make sure the infant hadn't been harmed by his eventful morning. The last, after a whispered consultation with Gideon, corralled the young agent and, despite his protests and with a grin from Morgan, escorted him off the roof as well. Jason looked at the others.

"Elle, you go back to Hotch's house and take Haley to the hospital. Morgan, you and I will finish up downstairs before going to the hospital."

With nods from his teammates, Gideon led the way to the stairs. As they descended, he could only hope that the end was in sight.

Gideon sat in his office and watched through the open door as his teammates interacted. J.J. was mothering a newly-released Reid, much to his embarrassment (and not-so-secret delight) and to the vast amusement of Morgan; Elle just smiled at the antics. The mood was vastly different from a week ago; the return of both Reid and Hotchner had dispelled the depression that had gripped the others (and, in a rare moment of self-examination, himself) and replaced it with relief and pleasure. No one talked about how close they had come to losing them both.

Jason moved to the doorway and looked up at Hotch's office. The door was closed, as were the blinds, but he knew the team leader was there. With a silent sigh, the senior profiler crossed the office and mounted the stairs, listening with half-an-ear to Reid's reactions to his teammates. The young man had bounced back surprisingly well from the ordeal. This time his encyclopedic knowledge had helped him understand what had happened and his lack of responsibility. The fact that he really remembered very little of that night didn't hurt, either. But the older agent didn't seem to be handling the situation as well.

He knocked softly at the door, and for several seconds there was no reply. Then, as he was debating just barging in, Hotch called for him to enter. Jason slipped into the office, shutting the door behind him and moving to take a seat across from the younger man. Hotch fingered a pen, staring at the surface of his desk and deliberately avoided the older agent's eyes. Gideon simply sat there and studied him.

The team leader was a bag of mixed signals. He had regained much of his weight and condition, but dark circles under his eyes indicated he wasn't sleeping well. He had talked several times about his experience to the agency psychiatrists, but apparently hadn't said a lot. He had been returned to limited duty, but he spent most of his free time isolated in his office. If something wasn't done, and soon, Gideon was worried they'd lose him entirely.

Finally, Hotch dropped the pen and looked up with resignation, obviously coming to the conclusion that he couldn't outwait Gideon. Jason gave him a crooked smile, but jumped straight to the heart of the matter. "You need to deal with this."

Hotch stiffened for a moment, then slumped forward and rubbed his eyes. "I know, but..." Suddenly, as if a dam had burst somewhere inside him at Gideon's soft comment, the words came pouring out. "How could I not have known? Was it that easy for her to manipulate me? I keep thinking about what could have happened, what I could have done. I wonder if something else will pop up from my subconscious without warning in the future. I see...in my dreams..." The flow staggered to a halt as he regained some measure of control. He looked at the senior profile, ill-concealed fear in the depths of his dark eyes.

Jason hid his surprise better; he'd had no idea that his teammate was in such turmoil. "What do you see in your dreams, Aaron?"

"You...Reid...all of the team, dead. And I know I killed you."

"It didn't happen. It won't happen." Gideon leaned forward, catching Hotch's attention and pinning him with his own intense stare.

"I just wish I was as sure of that as everyone seems to be." Aaron's voice was tired and, more worrisome, defeated.

"Aaron, you know about conditioning efforts. It only works in the short-term, and fails pretty fast if not continually reinforced. The Director gave me the report from the Bureau specialists about you and Reid. Based on that, it is apparent she took two different approaches. Reid's went for as long-term control as possible, so there was no real behavior modification. Your conditioning aimed for a one-shot, massive reaction. In both cases, the experts believe control ended when she died."

Jason knew Hotch had heard all of this before from the doctors and specialists, but he hoped the other man might take it more to heart coming from a more-trusted source. Then he added more. "We've gone over the evidence from Stafford's home." Hotch glanced at him sharply at that revelation; he hadn't been told (and wouldn't be allowed to view that evidence until it was deemed he was ready). "The tapes we found in the Bahamas were in most part a set-up, meant to focus our attention on Reid. She had tapes of your sessions at the house. Believe me when I say you were not easy to manipulate. You were released only when she was fairly sure the trigger would hold. Almost everything you remember of that week isn't true."

Gideon maintained his steady look, projecting his total confidence as Hotch stared back. He had done as much as possible to help the other man determine if the various explanations over the past weeks were sufficient to quiet his fears. Only Aaron could make that final judgment.

Finally, Hotch gave a deep sigh and sat back in his chair, every muscle going limp at once and his eyes closing in exhaustion. Jason controlled his own expression of vast relief, showing only the half-smile that seemed to be expected. Without opening his eyes, Hotch smiled back, and Gideon chuckled softly as he got to his feet. After watching the other man for a minute to see if he needed anything else in the way of reassurance, he turned to leave.

"Thank you, Jason."

The soft words stopped him as he walked toward the door. Whether or not Hotch even knew he'd spoken was debatable, since he was already asleep by the time Jason had turned around. Gideon watched the other agent for a while, feeling a paternal satisfaction that was so often missing with his own family. But then family could be chosen as well as born into, and right now this one was mending well.

\- Fini -


End file.
